


Shared Passion and True Confessions

by vanillafluffy



Category: Criminal Minds, The Three Investigators | Die drei ??? - Various Authors
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Molestation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of  "The Private Lives of Dr. Spencer Reid and Jupiter Jones" 'verse. Spencer has come out to Rocky Beach for Aunt Matilda's funeral. During his visit, relations between he and Jupiter heat up.</p><p>Mentions of previous Bad Things happening, some canon (but more awful than anything TV could show us). There are reasons Spence is 30 and still so buttoned-up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shared Passion and True Confessions

One of Jupe's favorite pasttimes is playing "Let's Make a Deal". Aunt Matilda had always had the Game Show Channel going on the little portable TV in the salvage yard office, and that show had made an impact on him that he's never outgrown.

For instance, there's a guy in town who has a boat, 35-foot cabin cruiser...and a 9 to 5, Monday thru Friday job. Jupiter also knows that Mr. Cabin Cruiser's retired father-in-law has a model railroad in his basement. What do you get the guy who has everything? Jupe has acquired two shipping drums full of ultra-old, ultra-rare and usually ultra-pricey Lionel trains and tracks, and he arranges with Mr. Cabin Cruiser to regularly supply him with some of these goodies in exchange for use of the boat when it's not in use, and he'll pay for the gas he uses. "Regularly" meaning birthdays, Christmas and Father's Day. 

On Monday, two days after his aunt's funeral, Jupiter arranges for use of the boat, and soon he and Spencer are out on the high seas. Well, not literally high seas; it's a beautiful day, not much chop at all. They have a picnic lunch---they're still working their way through all the food people have sent as sympathy gifts---and Jupe has packed a few other items to while away the time.

He's even managed to coax Spence into swim trunks. He's so pale, Jupe wonders if his knees have ever seen sunlight before.

Once they're well out to sea, Jupe drops anchor and suggests that Spence would benefit from some sunblock (To ward off spontaneous combustion, is what he doesn't say.) Spence shrugs out of the short-sleeved button-up shirt he's wearing---there's a suggestion that his arms may have occasionally been exposed to daylight.

Spence doesn't object as Jupe smooths on the sunblock, smearing it across his shoulders, rubbing it the length of his arms and in leisurely passes down his back. He's relaxed as Jupe ministers to him, eyes drooping. A yawn escapes him.

"I can do that," he mutters as Jupe begins to anoint the front of his torso, but he makes no move to do so. He yawns again.

His eyes open wide, though, when Jupe begins applying sunblock to his left thigh. Jupe doesn't answer; he gets the top of his thigh and down his left shin to his ankle. He takes his time, making sure to get good coverage. At no point do his hands venture toward anything covered by the trunks, and little by little, Spence relaxes. Then he shifts his position to Spence's other side, so he's next to Spence's right leg.

"There," he says presently. "We may be in the shade under the canopy, but there's a lot of reflected light out here, and I don't want you to end up looking like a boiled lobster. You got enough sun yesterday in Betsy with the top down." He reaches out with one still-oily hand, and runs his fingertips down Spence's pink nose. "Hmm, maybe a little more...."

He squeezes a dab of sunblock onto his fingers, and pats it gently onto Spence's face. He seems a little flustered, but not upset, so Jupe decides it's time to take a chance. He bends forward and brushes his lips against Spence's, then leans back to see the result.

Spence is staring at him, blinking. He isn't freaking out, which is good, but he's not asking for more, either.

"I hope you don't mind, but I've been wanting to do that for a while." Since that first night at dinner. He gives Spence a moment to say something, and when nothing emerges, he goes on, "If you're not intersted, I won't take it personally. We can fish, go for a cruise up the coast, whatever."

"It's okay," Spence says, very quietly.

"Just okay? I must be losing my touch." Spence smiles politely. He looks dazed. "Want me to try it again?"

"Okay." Still very quiet, very tentative, but this time, when his mouth presses against Spence's, there's a response. Definitely a response. After a few moments of feather-light lip-to-lip contact, Jupe catches Spence's lower lip betwen both of his and kisses that.

Spence lets out a peep, like a baby bird.

"Still okay?" Jupe asks, backing off slightly.

A slow nod. Spence angles toward him, hesitant, and Jupe meets him midway for another kiss.

Time passes, time for Jupe to regret his over-lavish application of sunscreen---it tastes nothing like its coconut scent---and to discover that Spence has a very tender throat---he's tilted it back so Jupe can kiss it. His neck in general seems to be quite sensitive; when Jupe nuzzles a particular spot just below and behind his right ear, Spence makes another of those interesting little noises.

However, when Jupe rests a hand on his thigh for balance so he can reach the other side of Spence's neck, Spence starts and tenses up.

"Whoa," Jupe soothes him, holding up his hands in a gesture of appeasement. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Spence's adam's-apple bobs. "It's my fault. I liked the kissing, I just---I don't---I don't have a lot of experience. And what I do have...wasn't my idea."

Jupe feels sick. Who could possibly have damaged him that way, and why? "Maybe we should talk about this," he says with as calm a tone as he can muster.

"In college, I was a lot younger than my roommates. I wanted to fit in, to be accepted...they sexually harrassed me all the time. I put up with it because I didn't want to get anyone in trouble, but I really didn't like it."

"That's not your fault," Jupe tells him. "I mean, yeah, it would've been a good idea for you to tell, but them being pervs is not your fault."

"I know...and it was a long time ago, but it still bothers me. Then...a few years ago, I was abducted by someone we were trying to apprehend. He gave me drugs, got me all spaced out, and he---" Spence stops. He's breathing erratically, and whatever his far-away hazel eyes are seeing, it isn't good. "He raped me. But I liked it." He shudders. "I never told anyone."

"I can see how all that would be confusing," Jupe says, choosing his words carefully. "Did the college guys do that, too?"

"No. They did things like, keeping me from getting dressed and fondling me so I was late to class. Or when they caught me masturbating, they held me down and ejaculated on me. It kind of broke me of the habit. But Tobias Henkel...he sodomized me. And I couldn't help it, I got hard!"

"That's physiology, not informed consent." Jupe shakes his head. "You said he gave you drugs? You were feeling no pain, and if he knew what buttons to push, yeah, it probably felt good. But Spence, that's not the same as giving permission. Sick bastard---what happened to him?"

"He's dead."

Good." He's never thought of himself as a vengeful person, but right now Jupe just wishes he could've gotten a few minutes to teach the guy a lesson before he was taken out.

"Do we have to do that?" Spence's tone is wistful, and he leans a little closer.

"That?"

"Sodomy."

"Oh God...no, Spence, there's a whole lot of activities between that and this." He gives Spence a chaste kiss, not wanting to scare him off. "I won't do anything without your permission and if you say 'stop', I will. I promise."

After another interlude of kissing, Jupe gets permission to inflate the air mattress he knows is stowed in the cabin. He covers it with a sheet he had the foresight to bring, and they stretch out under the canopy, still in their swim trunks.

More kissing ensues. He finds out that Spence doesn't care to have his nipples touched, but when Jupe remarks that that's something he particularly likes, Spence goes to work on them with his mouth, and if his cock had needed any more encouragement to finish getting hard, that does it.

"May I touch your cock?" he inquires.

In response, Spence takes his right hand and guides it to the crotch of his trunks. There's not a lot going on there; but Jupe's determined to change that. He spends a moment stroking the soft shaft through the fabric, then discretely applies a gob of lube he also brought with him to his palm. He slides his hand under the waistband so he can touch the warm flesh directly.

Progress at last. The shaft lengthens in his grasp. Surprise---there's considerably more of it than he'd expected.

When Spence gives the first unconscious jerk of his hips, pumping his cock into Jupe's hand, Jupe says, "I'm not going to ask you to reciprocate, but would you let me suck you off?"

"You don't have to do that."

"I know I don't have to. But I'd like to, if you'll let me. My experience isn't your experience, Spence. I've done it before, and I've been told I'm pretty good at it. I'd like to make you feel good, that'll all. Your choice."

"You'll stop if I ask you to?"

"Cross my heart."

"Okay, if you really want to...."

He's so rigid with inhibition that Jupe knows it's not going to work unless he can relax. "Spence, can I give you some advice? It's something I wish someone had told be before I started having sex. And I know from personal experience, it's going to be difficult."

There's an expression of apprehension on Spence's face, and he regards Jupe warily.

"Stop thinking. I know that's really hard for guys like us, 'cause we're always thinking. But when it comes to sex, analyzing it doesn't work. Sex isn't about brainpower, it's about nerve endings. Just let go and feel the feelings. Okay?"

"You're right." A rueful chuckle. "That's going to be difficult. I'll try."

"Good," says Jupe, and lowers his head to the task. He has to pause at one point to assure Spence that he knows what's going to occur when a certain threshold of stimulation is reached, and that he's quite prepared for it, thank you.

He gathers Spence into his arms after his climax, stroking his neck, not making any demands. The boat rocks with the waves. It's very soothing.

"What do you want me to do?" Spence asks after a while, sounding determined.

"You don't have to do anything, if you'd rather not, but if you wouldn't mind, I'd love to have your long, elegant hands...give me a hand job."

"I'll do my best."

"Have a little lube." Jupe doles out a splooge, and lies back.

Spence is inexperienced, and it shows, but Jupe has been fascinated by those graceful hands since that first evening at dinner, and he knows how to take his own advice. It gets even better when Spence integrates his knowledge and puts his mouth to work on Jupe's meaty nipples while his hand busily fondles Jupe's prick.

All in all, it's a very successful cruise. Spence looks quite pleased with himself on the way back to port, and Jupe allows himself to daydream. Personally, he'd rather catch than pitch, not that he'd try to convince Spence to catch any time soon, not after his revelations...and having discovered that sea-serpent Spence is packing, he'll be extremely happy to catch. He wonders what kind of deal he can make for that to happen....

***


End file.
